Forever Lost
by Freakish Feline
Summary: [Youko x Karasu] After 50 long years in prison, Karasu's returned to Youko.Charged with new life, Youko now wants revenge on those who wronged him. [Homosexual][Violent][Vague Sexual Mentions] This RP is a 'What if' to an RP that took place when I was 12


Hullo! This, my friends, is my very first fanfic. Don't get me wrong, I'm not new to the world, I just avoid all fanfics and never have written one before. (No, that does NOT make me new. :::sweat:::)

The story is insanely confusing, I'm afraid, because it's based off of a very, -very- long and milked RP. (Yes, I'm one of THOSE people.) Basically, my friends, Karasu's alive, Youko Kurama (Called simply 'Youko') and Shuichi Minamino (called 'Kurama' out of habit) have managed to obtain seperate bodies, Kuronue isn't dead, and there's a lovely n00bish cameo of me and a friend in the end. (Me being the cat, her being the wolf.) I'm a very obsessed little girl you see. .

Read it anyway, it's good for you, so says 4 out of 5 friends of mine. AND THEY DON'T LIE! :::spaz:::

Disclaimer: I own all four of the main charcters, Koenma, 4/5th of the main charrie's techniques, half of the Dark Tournament, about a third of the Chapter Black Saga, and one of Mukuro's attacks. Sadly, this is only in the TCG. x.x I own nothing else! Nooooothing! :::clings to her 130 or morecards and sobs::: NOOOOOO! My pretties, come back to meeeee! Mommy will treat you good, give her a chance... :::gets beat madly by Konami:::

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Cries melted the air, burning away at the cold stone that surround them; that surrounded everything. The dusty stones littered across the ground were all splashed red, the crimson stains as ageless as the cave itself. A rank smell hung heavily in the air, bitterly sweet and chokingly sour; it was the smell of corpses, dozens of them, tossed aside like trash. It was their blood that had seeped into the cold ground; their entrails that had rotted away or perhaps even been eaten by the horrid creature whom lay claim to the damp and lonely lair. 

More screams bounced off the filthy walls. Sharp and pained they cut through the night with the viciousness of a wild animal. His once shimmering hair hung limply in his face, clotted with dirt and blood and God knows what else. Golden eyes pierced the night, their gaze fixed at the small opening...the opening that led to the outside world; the world that held no warmth, no compassion. The world that had ripped away his very being and stolen all he had ever wanted. He stood, his tattered and primitive clothing hanging from his thin, pale body. The muscles that had once rippled across his limbs had long wasted away, leaving but a shadow of his former self. Ducking low, he stepped out into the open, growling at everything and nothing, his long and unkempt claws digging into his own tender flesh. The moon sparkled above him, casting its silvery rays upon the poor soul. In the distance he saw a well lit house, brimming with the calm happiness that he despised. Many years ago he might have considered the inhabitants his friends, but now...now they were nothing but empty memories. They had forgotten about him long ago, believing him missing; believing him dead; or perhaps not even caring. Even his closest comrade had given up on ever seeing him again, having finally stopped searching the grounds for his delicate scent nearly 20 years ago. She was now dead; her tiny white form in a shoebox behind the house; a crudely carved stone bearing but one word: 'Chee'.

He had been there when she had been discarded into the ground, though no one had seen him, his slick form hidden among the trees, taking the long lost shape of the legendary 6-tailed fox. No one had wept for the poor creature, not even the man who had given her to him so many years ago. He had cried though; the sharp tears stinging his eyes and falling to the ground silently. She has truly cared for him, searching day and night for him until finally old age had gotten to the animal, and forced her to retreat to the home permanently. Even locked away she had remained true to him, refusing to move from the bed that lay shut away in a dusty room, staring forever at an old, yellowed photo of her master and the dark man she had hated so dearly. It was there that she had died, and the next morning the wolf girl had found her, her cold, lifeless eyes fixed on the photograph, as if it had been the only thing keeping her breathing for all those months.

A low whimper filled his throat as he recalled this. He had stayed near until the very end, not even his undying grief and hatred for the people who surrounded her enough to force him to abandon one of the few creatures who had ever cared for him.

After she had passed away he stopped coming near the brick structure at all. Her death had striped him of his only reason to ever risk contact with the people again, though he was more than happy to wipe them from his memory forever.

He stood now, staring out towards the lit house, wanting dearly to burst in and let them see what had become of their once regal team mate. To demand them to speak his name, remember who he was, then tear them apart, enjoying dearly the sound of their flesh ripping, just as they had ripped his own reason for living out of his arms.

With a gruff sigh he turned and began to walk, his bare feet upturning leaves and twigs as he moved silently to the one place his loneliness couldn't follow him to. He pushed through heavy vines and dead bushes, his large, filthy ears listening steadily for the sound of water. As the delicate noise met him he smiled, a smile that nothing in the world could wipe from his face, and he sat, letting the warm water lap over his toes and bubble into his soul. He could almost smell the salty sweat in the air, though he knew it was just a memory, and for a moment let himself become absorbed with the ever vivid image in his mind. He could feel the startled cling and hear the shaky gasp; he could see the violet eyes staring at him with a shameful tenderness like he had never known, and for that moment in time he was back in the life he had so dearly missed. He was cared for and wanted, his kisses meaning something more than the sexual appeal the world had seen them as. There was someone there to embrace him when he was lonely, arms to warm him when he was cold, gentle hands the wipe away his tears when he was sad...

But it was all a dream. Nearly half a century ago it had all been torn away, that bastard Koenma having seized the only person who had ever loved him. The jarring memory filled his being as he recalled every painful moment; the cold stares of his so called friends as they calmly told him he would have to give up his lover, the threats the ruler unleashed upon him, and the brave, longing look the dark figure cast upon him, his words still echoing in the ancient fox's head...

"They cannot keep me forever, Youko. Eventually I will be released, and I will find you, embrace you, and make up the years in anyway I can. Until then I have the memory of your beautiful face and the promise of another tender kiss to keep me happy."

With that the man as walked off, cooperating unfalteringly, though he could have easily fought back. And even after so many years the vulpine knew why. Though he could have fought, he would have finally been captured, and the sight of him being dragged off would have caused his lover tenfold the pain he was already suffering.

He stared, empty, into the steaming water. His reflection would have startled him if he hadn't gazed upon it so many times in the past. He was no long the proud man who had been immortalized into history as a bandit like no other; Neigh, he was but a hollow shell now. His once valiant eyes lay sunk into his skull, radiating not the fierce pride they were once accustomed to, but instead they beheld a vicious hatred that could never be quenched. His skin was pale and waxy, having avoided sunlight for so many years. His ears were ragged and torn, having been ripped and assaulted so many times in his pitiful existence. Even his flowing hair was thin and stringy, small bald spots being numerous among his skull, where the hair had been torn out in a fight or even by his own hand in an episode of overwhelming grief. Dried blood stained his face, where he had mercilessly mutilated and devoured any lower class demon who had ventured near his dwelling. If he had even an ounce of his old pride he would have been disgusted with himself, but he had no reason to care what he looked like. Without anyone who truly cared about him he had reverted to his animalistic instincts, focusing only on survival and the demise of those who opposed him.

He curled up silently and closed his eyes. His common sense screamed at him that this was too much in the open to chance sleeping, but the calming memories of the bubbling pool was too great for him to pull away. He desperately needed to at least imagine the sweet touch of his long gone lover, lest he might forget it, which would truly erase all that was left of Youko Kurama.

He awoke early, the first signs of dawn just arriving as he sat up and stretched. He had become used to waking up in the wee hours, but never this early; and he couldn't understand what had drawn him from his slumber. He felt that he should be happy about something, but he didn't know why. He thought back to the night before, remembering his pained cries as another full moon had spread across the sky, and how he had made another mark across the wall in his own red blood. He knew not why he had counted the full moons; he only knew that it was important, the years having wiped away the reason. He stood and became angry, a heavy, menacing growl filling his throat and radiating through his being. His need to know why he had marked away the moons, why he had felt such grief on those nights, why he had awakened so early this morning...the desperate questions filling him to overflowing, and then...

Something clicked in his mind. He remembered why...why he had so diligently kept track of the full moon, why he had been so compelled to cry on those evenings, why he had both dreaded and looked forward to seeing the round orb in the sky...

He jumped to his feet, and began racing blindly through the trees, tearing past bushes and clawing through vines, needing to return to his lair. He had to count the marks on the wall; the number so suddenly of great importance. As he burst into the wretched cave he kicked a rotting body from his path and stood fixed at the wall. With the utmost speed and skill he added the jagged lines up one by one, becoming more and more anxious as the number rose. 597...598...599...600...

His heart fell to his stomach. He fought back a dry sob and sank to the floor. As a sharp wail built up in his throat his sharp eyes caught sight of something. Two lone marks lay hidden behind a rock, having been there for countless years. His long nails scratched the dirt. Without a moments hesitation he bolted into the cool morning light, and squinted, his nose twitching wildly, searching for a familiar scent. As a breeze wafted by his eyes widened, the deep, almost musky smell hitting his nostrils with a flourish. His pulse quickened, and with all the strength he could muster the kitsune let out a sharp, lasting howl. Birds flew from the trees, startled, as his pained, longing cry filled the air. As the bellow ended he didn't even pause, sucking in another huge gulp of air and letting loose another heartbreaking cry. As the noise shot through the sky, shattering the morning with an unforgettable force, he prayed that somehow his voice would be heard, hoping so deeply that this was real, that the scent on the air was more than just his mind...but as his tired form slumped to the ground, drained of all energy, no one came. Not even the snapping of a twig was heard as he listened intently for the swift movements he so desperately wanted to hear. The disappointment was so great he felt as if he might die right there, his soul having taken more pain than he should have been able to handle. This was not the time that he had been so patiently looking forward to. No one would ever come. He would repeat this charade like he did every time 12 moons past, and each time he would be repaid with another cold silence that he would forget until the next year came along...as always.

But he had been so sure that this would be the last moments he would spend alone. He had spent night after night painstakingly counting and calculating, getting the same result every time...this was suppose to end his pain forever. But it only left him with more pain than he had ever experienced. He began to wonder if he had been right, if this was the day. Maybe...he had been forgotten. The thought tore him apart inside, but it made so much sense. He was not worth remembering, he knew that. Everyone else had forgotten about him long ago...so why did he expect something to be different this time? He stood, shaking, and stared at the sky. He wished more than anything that he could fly into the blue abyss, soar into the depths of the sky until he was nothing but a cloud; until he simply disappeared.

Suddenly there was a shuffling in the bushes. He tensed, ready to run. The fear that his cry had awoke one of the people seeped deep into him, and a snarl escaped his lips. He would kill them if he had to, anything to keep them from exposing him. But as the slender creature stepped out of the brush before him, his vicious snarl became a low whimper. Sleek black hair fluttered in the wind, blowing past the narrow, cold eyes that peeked out from behind the steel mask that covered soft, pale skin. He stood tall, black boots crunching over dried leaves as he made his way towards the motionless fox. Strong arms reached out and took a firm grasp of his shoulders, causing an almost scared yelp to split through the silent morning air. He was immediately released as he bore his eyes into the face of his attacker. But as he met the man's eyes he gasped. Tears brimmed the demon's eyes and flowed over the shiny metal. The arms reached out again for him and he backed away, shaking his head. So long had he dreamed of this moment that he was certain it wasn't happening. But as a heartbroken look ripped across the dark figure's face he couldn't stand it anymore. It didn't matter if it wasn't real; he wanted it too much to care. He threw himself into the arms and buried his face into the crook of the bat's neck. His voice was raspy from years of not speaking, and it burned to make his muscles form words as he cried out in a mix of joy and pained disbelief. "Karasu..."

He felt the soft hands of his lover stroke his matted hair, and the tender, warm voice he had been so certain he would never hear again filled his soul and made him weep. "I'm here fox, forever and always. I'll take care of you for all eternity, and nothing will ever pry you from my arms again."

Warm lips pressed against his forehead, and the firm arms tightened their embrace around his waist. Tears flowed madly down his cheeks and onto the chest of his precious partner. He repeated his name over and over, as if afraid that he would vanish should he stop. Every second seemed like a lifetime, and even the warmth he felt wasn't enough. He wanted so much more; to have the years of cold loneliness washed away, to have every tear he had shed somehow wiped from this earth. His body rocked so badly with his sobs that he didn't even feel the powerful arms release him and scoop him up. All he felt was the warmth from the man against him and the unspoken love that washed over him. So absorbed in it was he that he almost screamed when he felt the hot water wash over him. As his body sunk into the spring he had to fight back the urge to paw his way back onto the land and cling to his dark companion for dear life.

Relief spread through his soul as he felt the cool hands touch his flesh, slowly pulling his tattered clothes from his body. They began to softly scrub his dirty, scuffed body, renewing the silky skin beneath. His head tilted and he leaned deeply into the touch as the slender fingers rubbed against his face, wiping away the blood and grime. He turned to look at Karasu, and was surprised to see a smiling face. Salty tears streak the pale face, an adoring and wordlessly joyous expression radiating from him. Out of the corner of his eye Youko saw the cold mask sink to the bottom of the pool, and he couldn't fight back a smile of his own. He felt his body relax for the first time in almost 50 years, and he allowed the graceful hands of his loving partner to scrub his silvery hair clean.

Nearly an hour later the proud fox stood in all his glory. Though still quite scraggly, the color had returned to his cheeks and his long hair once again blew gracefully in the wind. He wore the tight leather jacket usually found upon Karasu's shoulders, and though it made but a skimpy cover to his tall body he was more than content to remain in it forever, breathing in his lingering scent and basking in his warmth. He wanted more than anything to curl up and allow himself to sleep in his love's arms, but he knew this was not the time. He had been all but erased from the world, and it was now time to bring himself back. Fingers entwined in Karasu's he headed towards the house, his steps slow and deliberate. His feet moving soundlessly through the tall grass, he had never felt happier to have someone at his side. He knew he was heading towards a place that he was nonexistent in, and in all honesty he couldn't even remember the people's names.

As the pair neared the tall home the came across a long clothes line, its load blowing in the breeze. With a silent agreement the two pulled a white bed sheet from the vinyl rope, and in a matter of minutes recreated the vulpine's infamous garment. It seemed so surreal as they stared intently at each other. Such a moment was something that existed only in their dreams. To see one another as they remembered was almost too much, and they embraced again, separating only when they heard the clattering bang of the screen door. Youko quivered as he glanced towards the back of the cold brick house. "I can't...not now...not ever..." he said, gripping Karasu's hand for dear life. "If we return I know they take you away again. I can't survive losing you for a second time..."

He felt the soft hands that he had dreamed about oh so often press against his cheeks, and the incredible feeling of their soft lips meeting as if for the first time. The kiss lasted for so long he was sure that they had joined bodies, and was almost devastated to have it end. "I'll kill the bastard who tries to separate us, you here me? There's no way in hell I'm going one more day without you beside me."

His sharp eyes pierced those of the fox, and he ran his hands through the silvery hair, bringing his fingers to scratch the ragged ears. It felt so normal, as if they had never been torn away from each other at all, and he felt a joy like no other as his lover thumped his foot in silent contentment. This was how things were suppose to be, and he was going to make things right for himself and, more important, his dear kitsune.

Intertwining his fingers with Youko's trembling ones, he kissed him again, savoring the moment for all that it was. He smiled reassuringly and caught the fox's lip between his teeth playfully. He narrowed his eyes tauntingly and let his lips form a soft smirk. "Don't tell me half a century has wiped away a millennia worth of pride, Youko, because that would be utterly disappointing."

Winking slightly he felt his own confidence swell almost magically as Youko straightened himself and snorted, his fangs gleaming. "No way in hell."

With his confidence increased greatly just by hearing Karasu's daunting challenge, he turned with a set expression so much like that of the past it almost was like nothing had changed, and he headed towards the old brick house with sure steps, leading his lover as he did.

With a crash so loud it shook the ground the heavy wooden door burst open, spreading warm sunlight throughout the living room. Several people turned to stare, their faces pale with speechless shock. A tinkling sound filled the silent air as a glass fell to the floor and shattered, the hand holding it having gone limp with surprise. They were all there, each and every one of the kitsune's ex-comrades, though they had changed so much in the past 50 years. There stood the tall, slender Shuichi, his once red hair turned gray with age, though his features were as sharp as they were when he was 14. Beside him stood the familiar form of Hiei, though he was all but a different person. He had grown several inches, standing now at an even 5 feet, his spiky black hair in turn having lost quite a bit of height. Staring with wide eyes he shook his head in disbelief, and moved closer to his lover. Behind them were the girls, who had both lost all color in their face. The taller one, her sharp tail flicking back and forth, let out an instinctive growl, while her friend muttered something, obviously frightened beyond normal reason, and ducked behind the masculine form of the fox's old friend, Kuronue. He glanced at her for a moment then locked his eyes onto the pair standing in the doorway, and tightened his grip on the little boy in his arms. He in turned, began to cry, and was taken by his mother, who moved slowly, as if afraid the vulpine demon and his batty lover might strike at the first sign of motion. The silence in the room was only broken by the wail of the child in the hanyou's arms, and for a brief moment it seemed all time had stopped. Finally, as if to end the horrid emptiness that had filled them all, Shuichi spoke.

"Can it really be you, Youko?" he murmured, unsure if his words might set him off in some way, but his long lost 'other half' simply nodded.

"You don't really believe you can get rid of me that easily do you?"

As he spoke he looked straight at him, his voice rigid with suppressed hatred. He squeezed Karasu's hand and moved closer, as if protecting him from the evil grasp of these people. All the anger he had built up over the years began to bubble within him, and his lips curled into a snarl that made the whole lot's blood run cold. Vivid memories flashed through his mind. The horrid moments where he had been repeatedly proven he was only wanted when he other half was not, the heartless ways he had been treated even by his lover at the time, Hiei. The moment they ripped his precious Karasu from him with nothing but cold stares and threats, the indecent burial they gave his darling Chee, and now...now the way they stared at him like he was a monster, hiding from him and protecting each other like he was out for their blood. But then again, perhaps he was. They has treated him like dirt for as long as they had known him, either fearing him or acting like he had no feelings; they had taken away the one man who saw him as a person and gave him the love he wanted and deserved, and then, as if to spit on his already mangled existence, had disrespected the only creature who was still on his side. Yes, it was true, he wanted to spill their blood; he wanted to mutilate their bodies like they had mutilated his soul. Even the wolf, the girl he once thought of as a sister, was guilty. They all were. The snarl upon his lips grew fiercer, and he bore his claws, ready for attack. With a look of pure hatred he dove at them, huge vines whipping around them, every single one of them, closing around their throats. He dug his claws into his other half first, drawing his blood and enjoying every sadistic moment. The mortal cried out in agony, his cheeks stained red as he watched his own flesh being ripped from his face. Tears stung his eye and with all the breath he could muster begged to be released. Youko just snickered with satisfaction and spat on him, moving onto the small man at his right. Facing him though was a look of calm determination, a look that just dared him to attack...and he did. Thick thorns burst from the vines around the pigmy, and pierced nearly every inch of his body. There was not so much as a cry of pain, and, frustrated, Youko smacked him across the face. Then, with a sick grin, blood dripping from his claws, he turned to the hanyou girl. Running a bloodied nail down her cheek he laughed hysterically and began to bore his claws into the side of her neck. She let out a pained moan and clung tightly to her child, praying he would have mercy on the tiny boy. Youko, though, hated it the most. Such a sick thing, it was, laying there in its frightened mother's arms. It was the result of a love that was allowed to flourish while his own was torn apart and spit upon. He wanted it dead so badly, if only to show it's parents a fraction of the pain he was forced to endure while his lover was locked away for a crime he didn't commit. With a cold sneer he reached out and clamped his hand around the boy's tiny neck, and squeezed, sick glee filling every ounce of his being. With a cackle he began digging his sharp claws into the tender flesh beneath his hand. A shrill cry sliced through the air and the wolf began to sob, begging with all her strength to have her child spared, but he only began to squeeze tighter. Her hysterical sobs filled the room as she fought in vain to free herself from the heavy vines that prevented her from saving her precious brood. This only enticed the fox more though, and he stared down at his tiny victim with hatred so pure it could blacken even the most innocent of souls. With a sickening crunch he felt his strong fingers shatter the fragile collarbone of the pup, a sadistic joy filling every inch of his body as blood gurgled into the rasping mouth of the boy and drowned his already collapsing lungs. The warm gore spilled over the fox's fingertips, seeping under his nails and running down his arms. With a satisfied smirk he tossed the carcass aside like a rag doll and turned his back upon the heartbroken half breed, letting her maddened cries add to his sick pleasure. With a roar the father of the dead child burst from his binding and lunged at Youko, pure and utter hatred tearing across his face. "You....bastard...", he screamed breathlessly, fingers outstretched, itching to close around the heartless demon's throat and snap his neck in the same callous way that had ended hi own offspring's life, but his fingertips stopped but inches from the kitsune's flesh, a stream of blood running down his chin. With a surprised gurgle he glanced down, eyes widening at the sight of the long, thick thorn speared through his gut. Flowers began to bloom all over the earthly sword, their acidic nectar spilling forth and eating away at the crow's innards. Within moments he fell to the ground, his flesh torn away from most of his torso, pools of bloody acid forming on the floor beneath him, sending his wretched lover into fresh moaning cries. Youko smiled sickly and turned back to the human and his pyromaniac partner, flexing his claws tauntingly. Blood had puddled at their feet, forming a blackened pool that spread across the wooden floor as if alive. The smaller man was slumped over, pale, his loss of blood great. The feeling drained from his body, he didn't even move as sharp rose stems bore into his skull one at a time, spilling blood and cerebral fluid down his face. A moan escaped his lips as he struggled to draw in breath, his body already shutting down from the attacks it had suffered. In a mockingly merciful way Youko drew a leaf in his hand, blowing it into the air. As it fluttered towards the ceiling it grew and began rotating like a saw blade, darting down upon the dying fire demon and decapitating him with one sharp motion. A scream shot forth from the mortal as the mutilated head fell to the ground and rolled right in front of him, the lips of his dead lover open in a silent cry. He fought viciously to escape from the grip of the insane vulpine's vines, but the more he moved the tighter they became. He could feel the pressure of the thick green tentacles crushing every bone in his frail human body, and almost choked as he felt several of his ribs snap and puncture his flesh, jutting out of his body at painfully uneven angles. Buds began to shoot out of the ground around him, their thick petals opening to form horrific mouths that dripped disgustingly with warm, thick drool. Agonizing cries filled the room as they began to devour the human slowly, making sure to avoid his organs at all costs as to keep him alive for as long as his body could muster. Bits of flesh and muscle dropped from the mouths of the killer plants as they feasted upon Kurama's flesh, his screams only increasing their appetite that much more. As his last gasping breaths ceased to continue the plants sunk back into the ground from whence they came, the bloodied and tattered skeleton of their sickening meal lying in a heap beside the discarded cranium of the bastard psychic. Youko stared at the gore-filled scene, his once white garment stained a violent crimson, and he laughed cruelly, kicking the bodies emotionlessly. His cold gaze turned upon the only survivors; the hysterical wolf and her cowering friend. With a snap of his fingers the vines fell to the ground, leaving both women in a sobbing heap. A snarl crossed his lips as he kicked one, then the other, and forced them to stare at his cruel face. "Get out..." he hissed at them, enraged hatred still vivid in his eyes. "Get out before I kill you as well."

The wolf just sobbed, staring at the mangled bodies of her lover and son, and was only pulled to her feet as her friend, splattered with the crow's blood, grabbed her by the shoulders and frantically began pulling her towards the back door. She fought insanely to get back to her slaughtered family but was forced out the door with a hard shove. Sobbing madly they both bolted across the tall grass, afraid to stop until the house and the horrors that it contained were but an unpleasant memory.

Youko turned, panting, back towards the door, and was startled to see the look of terror that had spread across his love's face. He stared down at himself, realizing how insane he had acted. And yet, as he glanced around the room and truly saw what he had done to his long forgotten friends, he felt no remorse. Their lives meant nothing to him, nothing at all. Not even the women that he had mercifully released so much as sparked a feeling of pity; he had only let them free because some unwritten honor code had kept him from attacking a woman who couldn't fight back. Wiping the blood from his face he stared into the quivering face of his love, and with a grace known only to a fox he swooped over and pressed his sticky lips upon Karasu's. There was nothing to be said; only actions could speak as loudly as was needed. Wrapping his dripping arms around the neck of the bat he deepened the kiss, an unspoken agreement forming between them. This was their home now.

Thick rosebushes blossomed forth from the ground, surrounding the side of the towering stone structure, as if some unknown magic had called them from the majestic realm they had surely been created in. The setting sun spread its orange glow across the tall trees that surrounded the home. Bits of brick still poked out of the lush grass, a reminder of an unwanted memory, destroyed and forgotten just as the people who created it were. The almost castle-like house stood right in the center of the flourishing forest, its foreboding shadow being cast upon the ground. Inside, a fire cracked and roared, fiercely devouring the wood that kept it steadily alive. The soft gasping sounds of suppressed laughter echoed off the walls, having escaped from the lips of the raven haired man has his precious fox placed kiss after warm kiss upon his neck and chest. They would make love that night, as they often did, then fall asleep with nothing but each other's strong body to keep them warm, just as they wanted. There was no one to disturb them or their blossoming love, and they gladly took advantage of this fact with every deep kiss and warm touch, knowing that even an eternal life wasn't long enough when it came to being together.

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:::is pathetic::: REVIEEEEEEEEW! ToT I need to feel the luff! (Or hate. :::shifty eyes:::) 

:::cough::: I've got a new one coming soon, based off of a more recent point in the RP. (Nothing in this fanfic happened in the RP, mind you, or else I'd be without charries to RP.) So phear me and read it once it's up. ;D


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